Page 64 of Cosmic Power

“Please what, Maddox? Surely you’re not about to ask me to spare you. You should know by now that anyone who played a part in Zamorra’s capture will suffer. Immensely.”

“It wasn’t my choice, my Lord. Leilani compelled me to follow her orders. I didn’t want to do any of it.”

Luther scoffed. He didn’t believe a single word. His maker was very clear about the role Maddox played in the plan that lured him away from the mansion on the night Zamorra was taken. He wasn’t under any compulsion. He did everything Leilani said without hesitation because he loved her. And he believed she loved him back.

Foolish. Leilani didn’t love anyone but herself.

To Maddox’s relief, Luther gripped Ophelia by her long red hair and forced her to her feet. He would get to Maddox in time. For now, it was Ophelia’s turn.

She hissed as Luther dragged her to the steel table that was still dripping with Leilani’s blood, kicking and screaming, clawing and scratching. “Stop this!” The thick silver chain around her ankle pulled taught and she screeched as she was being pulled in two different directions. Luckily, it was just long enough.

Luther threw her down and using a long silver rod, slammed it into her chest to keep her pinned. He flicked a switch and silver cuffs sprung up from the table and locked around her limbs, burning her skin.

“Ahhhh!” she cried out, thrashing like a wild animal, her body straining to try and get free.

Luther frowned down at her in disappointment. “If you can’t handle that little bit of pain, you’re in for a rude awakening when I really get started.”

“You can’t do this! You swore an oath to protect me!”

“I did no such thing,” Luther said, eyeing his torture implements. He wasn’t sure where he wanted to start.

“You promised my father that if he saved your life, you’d protect me. You’re a man without honour if you can’t—”

Luther lunged forward, jumping onto the steel table, fangs bared. He snarled in her face, wrapping his black-clawed fingers around her throat tightly and squeezed so hard she couldn’t breathe. “You do not have the right to questionmyhonour, Ophelia. You went behind my back, attacked my people, sold their blood. And don’t even get me started on what you did to the child.”

Ophelia coughed, gasping for breath. “They’re…lying. I…didn’t…do…anything.”

He raised a brow. “Do you take me for a fool, Ophelia?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer. “I see now who you truly are. I just can’t believe it took me this long to see it. Your lies won’t work on me any longer. In fact, I’m sick of hearing them. I’m sick of hearingyou.”

Luther pried open her mouth, pulled a demon blade from behind his back and cut her tongue out. She screamed, thrashing underneath him. The silver cuffs seared into her skin with every tug, making the smell of burnt flesh coil into the air like smoke. Tears sprung in her eyes as blood filled her mouth and she choked on it, trying to spit it out. Luther closed a hand over her lips, forcing her to swallow it instead.

Hovering the tip of the demon blade over her eye, he smiled, enjoying the way she tried to shrink away from him, the fear flashing over her face. “I would have thought after everything you know about me, you would have known better than to betray me. To do something you know I would not only disapprove of, but be angered by.” Blood slipped between his fingers as he continued to cover her mouth. “But no matter. You will learn your lesson before I let you fade into the dark.”

Remaining bent over her on the table, Luther slashed her face once, twice, three times, over and over again, carving the flesh right off her bones. She squealed, cried, begged, pleaded. But none of it mattered. Betrayal was not something he was willing to let slide. He had been betrayed enough to last several lifetimes, and with each time he grew more and more cynical, bitter and unforgiving.

Once he was done with her face, he moved lower. His plan was to skin her alive. However, with the healing ability vampires possessed, it posed quite a challenge. By the time he had finished with one section and moved onto the next, she had already begun to heal; which meant he was going to be cutting into her for a long time. Not that he particularly minded. He enjoyed her screams, even if they were loud and shrill. Like a pig being gutted.

Maddox huddled fearfully in the corner, curving his body into a ball and covering his ears as he tried to block out Ophelia’s ear-piercing cries.

“Please, my Maker! Stop! I can’t-it hurts-p-please,” she begged, her body convulsing. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I’ll never betray you again. Please, just stop.”

“Oh, I know that,” Luther hummed, peeling off a large chunk of flesh from her stomach. “Because you’ll never get the chance. You won’t be leaving here alive, Ophelia.”

“Noooooo!” she shrieked as he took a lit matchstick and held it against her exposed tissue and muscle. It burned through her and she blubbered like a baby, incoherent words leaving her lips as she writhed and stretched, trying to get as far away as she could from him and the open flame. “Lutherrrrr!”

When the match died, he lit another, moving it along all the areas he had skinned, enjoying her screams of agony. Then she had to go and ruin it all by passing out.

Luther slapped her face a few times, annoyed. “Wake the fuck up,” he growled. It wasn’t any fun if they weren’t conscious. She groaned, her eyelids fluttering, but she didn’t wake.

Frustration boiled in him until a clatter from behind reminded him that he still had a conscious vampire who needed punishing in his midst. He could return to Ophelia when she woke up—and he would. She wasn’t getting off that easy.

Maddox sensed the shift in the air and he curled tighter into a ball, trying to make himself smaller in the hopes that Luther would leave him be.

Not a fucking chance. His punishment would be as horrifying as Leilani’s was, not only because he was partly responsible for Zamorra’s capture, but because he had the audacity to hold a knife to her throat. To hurt her. Luther had been agonisingly waiting for this moment. And he had saved the best for last.

Luther walked across the room, his steps light and fluid, when something small zinged in front of him. Green pixie dust lingered in the air as Luther stared, confused at the tiny red-haired pixie now floating an inch from his face. Her wings flapped hard, keeping her at eye level as she panted for all she was worth, hunched over at the waist with her hands resting on her knees, her breathing coming quick. Luther recognised her.

Navi?

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